Last of the Line
by Loki Mischeif-Maker
Summary: They thought Regulus Black died almost sixteen years ago. When he returns to Grimmauld Place to find his family dead and the Order of the Pheonix housed in his home, he's ironically more than willing to help them out. DISCONTINUED
1. A Sound in the Night

**Disclaimer:** No, it's not mine. I wish it were mine (don't we all?), but my name is not synonymous with JK Rowling's. I only play with the characters.

**Author's Note:** I recently sat there trying to do the math, and all I was capable of coming out with is that Sirius was in his mid to late thirties when he died (I am not very good at math), so it stands to reason that Regulus would be in his early to mid thirties. Tonks, I'd think, would be somewhere in her mid twenties, and I'm talking far too much about the ages of cannon characters. General things you ought to know: I'm not at this point planning any romance, and . . . well . . . there's to be one more animagus in the mix (and it's not Harry). I, as always, enjoy and appreciate comments and _constructive_ criticism. Cheers! — Loki

* * *

There was a tousling in the attic. Nymphadora Tonks looked up from where she sat in the kitchen, curious. No one else in the house made nearly as much noise as she usually did, and this was causing a far bigger stir. She considered her options, playing with the coffee mug in her hands, and stood up, drawing her wand from her pocket and running absent fingers through her hair, which at the moment bore its common spiky pink appearance.

The noise continued, making its way to the drawing room. Tonks paused then, eyeing the stairs apprehensively. She'd make quite the noise going up, and if it was at all skittish, whatever it was, it would run as she tried to climb them. The sound came again, and she made the decision to come after ir anyway.

There wasn't another sound from other parts of the house, and the drawing room door was open a little. Thinking perhaps it was just Kreacher, Tonks opened it farther to make sure.

It wasn't Kreacher. For one wild moment she thought Sirius was back from the dead, but just as quickly reality pulled her back down to earth. The man was too short to be Sirius, anyway, though the same black hair streamed down thin shoulders, and their profiles could have been the same. His grey eyes weren't haunted the same way. He stood by the tapestry family tree, running his hand across it.

"She blew Sirius off here . . . I remember that. But I'd no idea _she_ was dead. . . ." His hand drifted over. "She blew Andromeda off, too. Pity— girl had more sense than both her sisters." The long fingers brushed the line that led Narcissa's name to Malfoy's. "Narcissa never could have decent taste in men; pity the one they approved of had to be him. Bellatrix . . . that girl and her taste for violence." He shuddered. His voice was cracked, rusty from lack of use, and Tonks noticed that the robes he wore were outdated by nearly a decade and a half and in poor condition. That, and how much he looked like Sirius. . . .

She stepped into the room. Startled, the man turned to face her, the look of an animal in a trap in his grey eyes. "Who . . . who are you?" he asked softly.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Tonks replied.

"Well, one of us not answering doesn't help the other," the man answered. His own hand itched towards a pocket— apparently he was wary of a fight, too. "I thought . . . I thought I might actually be coming home."

"That doesn't answer my question." Tonks walked in and sat down, motioning that he might like to do the same. "I'm Nymphadora Tonks— and I want a name from you."

"Nym, huh?" the man asked, joining her on the couch she was perched precariously on. "Andromeda always liked that name— and she married a Tonks."

"How do you know my mum?"

"We're cousins." The man stared at her calmly, brushing filthy black hair back from his face in the same way Sirius had done once upon a time. Tonks stared, recognition dawning— she'd always been too young to remember this man at all, before he was dead, but he looked and acted so much like Sirius. . . .

"You can't be," she said.

"Why ever not?" He grinned slightly, and for a moment it was Sirius reincarnated four or five years younger; the joking, laughing, teasing Sirius he hadn't been too much before he'd died. "I realize . . . I realize Mum marked me dead."

"Regulus Black?" she asked softly.

He shrugged, reaching out and tentatively grabbing her shoulder. She stiffened under his touch, half expecting the chill of a ghost, but finding his hands warn and definitely solid. Tonks tried to talk, tried to say _something _to this man, but all she managed was a squeak. He grinned. "Not quite as articulate as your mother'd be, I'm afraid."

"How can I _be_ articulate!" It came out quickly, partly due to shock, partly because his face brought something of the grief of losing who until tonight she'd thought was the last Black back anew. "You . . . you're . . . Regulus, you're _dead_!"

"Well, if I am, I'm certainly out of the grave fully by now," Regulus answered, wincing.

"It's not funny!"

"I didn't mean to make you think I thought it was. Just don't screech like that." Within moments, he'd done the very last thing she'd expected a man like him to do— he'd pulled her into a hug, leaving her in shock that rendered her speechless again. "Nymphadora, listen— you're family. It there's one thing that tapestry proves Mum didn't really trust and I do, it's blood is thicker than water. Your dad might have been Muggle-born, but you're my family. Glad I got to meet you."

He finally pulled back, leaving Tonks staring worse than ever at him, trying to piece together random bits of information. The first was what he'd given her— Sirius must have effected his little brother enough that he'd forgive half-bloods, at least. The second was that his ribs were painfully obvious against her side, and from the state of his hair and his robes, it wasn't that he'd pressed against her so hard. "How do I know you're really him?" she asked.

"That's actually a damn good question. Sirius anywhere around?"

Tonks really did _not_ want to tell this man his brother had died. Instead, she shook her head and stood up, offering him a hand to tug him to his feet. "Well, I guess you _did_ get into the house, and what I heard you muttering about the family was true. I'm going to get you down to the kitchen."

He let her lead him down, and Tonks began to wonder if the clumsy gene was really fully from her father. Perhaps though, lack of food and sleep, and it was obvious Regulus was suffering from both, was just making him disoriented.

In the kitchen, Tonks found another mug and emptied the contents of the coffee pot into it, handed it to him and shoved him into the nearest chair. She then regarded the man, trying to figure things out. He was certainly in need of a bath and a shave. What _had_ he been doing for the past fifteen years? Finally, however, Regulus looked back up at her. "And what is it you intend to do with me, Nymphadora?"

"First of all, my name is Tonks— my mother has cursed me with that name but it doesn't mean I have to use it. Secondly, I don't intend to do anything with you— I think I'll go tell Remus you're here, shall I?"

"_Remus Lupin_?"

"Who else?"

"How long have Mum and Dad been . . . been . . . been dead then?" Regulus asked softly. He shuddered, and something flickered in the backs of his eyes. He wasn't expecting to come home to his house set up as an army headquarters, that much was more than obvious. He didn't even want to believe his parents were dead. She'd leave news about Sirius to another person.

"Ten years, I think, something like that," Tonks answered softly. "I dunno."

He nodded. "Then Sirius can't be far behind, if Lupin's here— never thought I'd be meeting my brother's friend in my parents' house."

Tonks noted he said singular— apparently he knew something about Peter Pettigrew, and obviously the _world_ knew James Potter was dead by now. "What did you expect, then?"

"I dunno. I thought I'd be in and out without being caught, to tell you the truth. Mum and Dad slept like the dead. I didn't expect my cousin's daughter and my brother's best friend . . . who else is here my parents wouldn't have liked?"

"Mad-Eye Moody's here, though that might have panned out with them," Tonks admitted cheerfully. "Molly and Arthur Weasley and their kids, and Muggle-born named Hermione Granger . . . a fence and a thief, Mundungus Fletcher . . . and right now that's about it."

She headed back upstairs and knocked on the door to Remus's room. There was no answer, so she poked her head in and lit her wand.

There came a wolf-like yelp and Remus sat up in bed. "What, Tonks— and at _this_ hour?" he demanded.

"There's. . . ." Tonks swallowed, unsure. "Someone's showed up."

"At _this_ hour?" Remus repeated. He shook his head, waving his hand and groping in the dark for something. "Tell whoever I'll be down in a minute."

"Why?"

"I've got to actually be dressed before I go do something about it!" Remus pointed out. "Get your head and your wand out of there; you're not watching me dress."

Tonks obliged him, and stood in the hall, waiting for her friend to emerge. Eventually, the werewolf did, wiping greying sandy hair back from his tired face and glowering at Tonks. "Why me?" he asked, suppressing a yawn. "Two days after the moon and—" he paused, unable to keep this yawn down "—you could have gotten Mad-Eye up."

"Moody wouldn't have. . . ." Tonks paused, uncertain. "You'll have to come see."

Remus lifted a skeptical eyebrow, shook his head, and allowed himself to be half-dragged down into the kitchen. Once he laid eyes on Regulus, his already pale face went another couple of shades closer to dead white. "_Sirius_?" he asked in barely a whisper.


	2. Reynard

Regulus looked up when he heard Tonks re-enter with another person, and his eyes landed on Remus Lupin with some relief. At least the young woman had gotten who she said she'd get. "No, actually," he croaked, leaning back against the chair.

"Well, no, you couldn't be," Remus answered, staring at him and shaking slightly. "But . . . Regulus Black? Good God."

He looked up again, some irritation shining in his grey eyes. "If you wouldn't mind elaborating before you start cursing worse?"

Remus wandered over, an odd look across his pale fair face, and tentatively put a hand on the younger man's shoulder, as if checking to make sure he was no apparition. Regulus allowed the hand to stay there. "But how could you possibly. . . ?"

"Nott's an idiot."

Remus snorted, and something of the slightly irritating "good boy" of the Marauders Regulus remembered from their school days returned to Remus's tone. "You tell me nothing I don't already know. Care to explain exactly how you wound up alive?"

"Um. . . . that's rather a long story."

"And it's rather a long time before morning," Remus pointed out. He leaned against the table, crossing his arms, and stared questioningly at the younger man.

Regulus knew from long experience that Remus Lupin was patient enough to wait almost any other man out. Finally, he shrugged. "I lost my taste for killing just watching it. Shouldn't have gotten in, couldn't've gotten out— alive anyways. I faked my own death."

Remus nodded. "But _how_?"

Regulus shook his head, brushing his hair back again. "So much for the short version. You think I didn't figure out what you guys were up to in school? 'Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs' that is?"

"Well . . . if anyone figured it out, it would have been you," Remus admitted, obviously thinking back on the younger Regulus, the one that seemed to show up at random knowing exactly what they were doing. "You made a better spy than anything else."

"Exactly. Ever wonder how, especially your last year?"

Remus nodded. "Of course. The knack was uncanny."

Regulus grinned absently at the comment, still trying to figure out an easy way to say it. There was none— but he'd never changed in front of anyone else before. Still, he concentrated, feeling bone grinding bone for a moment. After his body had settled again, a scrappy-looking grey fox sat in place of the man, staring up at Remus and Tonks from bright eyes. Tonks simply stared— Remus went even paler. "You're one, too?"

He changed back, starting to explain in a halting voice. "There were a bunch of people I worried about . . . but I wasn't about to let half of them know I worried about them. . . . Sirius was one of them. It's easier to tail a man as an animal than it is as another human. . . ."

"I can imagine. Did you. . . ?"

"Of course I did!" he exclaimed. "It was the most dangerous thing the four of you ever did!" Remus nodded at Regulus's comments, having the grace to look a little shamefaced about it. "I know far more about your moonlight exploits than any of you ever want known. I'm never going to tell Sirius exactly how much."

A very odd look passed over Remus's face. "Well, continue."

"At least the other three of you knew that Peter, James, and Sirius could transform," Regulus couldn't help but comment with an edge to his voice. "Anyway, after we grew up, when idiot I am I joined Voldemort—"

Tonks shuddered. Remus stared. Regulus nodded grimly. "Yes, I use his name," he answered the unspoken question in Remus's eyes. "Well, I still kept animagus form to myself, and more than one Death Eater would tell you I had a tendency to . . . erm . . . _disappear_ when a scene got too much for me."

"Instead of doing something?" Remus asked softly.

"The great difference between me and my brother. Sirius would have died for them; I slipped off. I'm no Gryffindor, Lupin, I'd frankly rather live." Regulus shrugged hopelessly. "Eventually they got sick of me disappearing and questioning the great and worthy cause." He rolled his eyes. "They ordered Nott to kill me, but at that point I still had a couple of friends. It was Snape, actually, that told me I might want to run for it. I didn't really, just made sure he cornered me in the woods."

"Where a fox wouldn't be much of a sight," Tonks muttered.

"Exactly," Regulus answered. "The curse went wild— Nott's a hopeless dueler; he needs to take someone disarmed, and some of the curses I can stand to use had his aim more than a little worse than usual." He smirked, and for a moment the family resemblance to Sirius was as uncanny as his appearance. "I never knew jelly-legs was that hard on a man. Anyway, he thought he'd hit. Like I said, idiot."

Remus nodded. "I take it he wouldn't know . . . from Snape, the Dark Mark would still burn. . . ."

"If you're speaking of what's happened since a year ago, yes, it does," he admitted, shuddering. "But as for the spell— I think it might burn on _dead_ Death Eaters, that's how strong it was. If that's true, of course he hasn't noticed I'm alive. If he does . . . well, he hasn't found me yet, that's for sure."

"And the other people you 'tailed'?" Remus asked. "What about them?"

"Voldemort got to Angel about a year before he got to me— the one time I almost worked up the nerve to get in the way, but no, I had to stick to being a coward at heart," he admitted regretfully. "Sirius can handle himself; I gave up on Todd, he isn't the man he used to be. Snape, actually, once or twice, as much to keep him from doing something as to make sure nothing happened to him. I think that's it."

Remus nodded, staring thoughtfully into space. Tonks looked from one man to another, apparently trying to piece everything together.

"How's Sirius, anyways?" Regulus broke the silence.

Tonks looked grimly at him but didn't answer. Hesitantly, Remus spoke up. "I hate to be the one to tell you this, Regulus . . . but perhaps you'd rather hear it from me after all. . . . Sirius was killed by Bellatrix."

"He's _dead_?" Shock erupted, his face went from tanned to dead white and he started to shake. "You're joking, right? Sirius _can't_ be dead. . . ."

"I wouldn't kid you," Remus said softly.

"But . . . but Sirius doesn't die," Regulus whispered. His voice choked, he could feel tears welling up— in a moment or two, they'd start spilling out. "He can't be dead . . . he just can't."

"He only died about three weeks ago," Remus admitted. "I can hardly believe it myself, and I saw him fall through the veil myself."

"What veil?" This was a fact— something he could grasp onto, even through the shock of the knowledge his brother was dead. He wiped the tears away with his wrist, trying to calm down; this was no proper way to act.

"The veil in the Department of Mysteries, in the Death Chamber," Remus admitted softly. "I don't really understand it, but I know he's not coming back." He swallowed, and it occurred to Regulus that he might be choking back tears himself. "He died coming after Harry . . . after he'd fallen into one of Voldemort's traps. It was how he would have wanted to go down."

Regulus nodded. "I know that but . . . but Sirius . . . you'd have thought he was immortal sometimes. . . ." He chuckled hollowly. "He fell off this roof once; he was laughing about it by the time a healer got to him. And every time he went up against Dark Wizards. . . . After Pettigrew beat him, I almost thought he might try to kill himself, but he didn't only live, he escaped. . . . How can he be dead? He had so much life in him. . . ."

Remus nodded. "How can he indeed?"

Finally, however, Regulus managed to regain a grip on himself. "I'm the last in the family," he muttered, and put that information away to sort out and deal with later. "Well . . . um . . . what else is going on? As long as I'm here, if you need any help. . . ."

"First of all, would you care to let us know what brought you back?"

"After fifteen years a man gets a little homesick," Regulus answered. "I came back for a little while when Sirius escaped. He never realized he was being followed until I slipped off again when he got to Hogwarts. I don't like to admit it, but I buried myself in the French countryside when the Dark Mark burned. . . . I finally decided to emerge."

"Why didn't you just go as a Frenchman?" Tonks asked curiously. "You'd be in better shape."

"My accent's _horrible_," Regulus admitted. "Might as well be wearing a banner saying I'm a foreigner, and to a Frenchman I swear that's a crime. Besides, you make the connection to an Englishman and the Black connection's not too far off— and there's only one Black boy my age. I admitted to being a coward, and Voldemort doesn't just have supports in Britain. Frankly, I value my life."

Remus shook his head. "We all do. But she has her point— and foxes are hunters."

"And I make a very poor fox," Regulus admitted.

Remus shook his head, near laughing at him, and nodded towards the stairs. "You'll probably feel a bit better after a shower and a shave, and I'm sure there's something that'll fit you around here. Care to make yourself comfortable as well as at home?"

"You read my mind, Lupin."

**

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Author's Note:** Yay! I got reviews! (Yeah, when I thought realistically I know I was lucky to get any, though I've been kinda spoiled off The Second Time Around. . . .) Any questions you still have, feel free to ask— yes, Mrs.Sniffy, Reg will meet Harry, though I'm afraid I can't answer the challenge on your bio with this— I've other plans for him with the Order, though its not Harry Potter if he doesn't end up in Hogwarts at least once. . . . And because someone is going to ask— I have very good, undisclosed reasons for making Regulus a Reynard, but you will have to wait. Still appreciate any comments and criticism! Cheers! — Loki


	3. Breakfast

A shower, a shave, and an abbreviated explanation to Molly Weasley later, Regulus was back in the kitchen, once again mulling over a coffee cup. He was watching Tonks attempt to help Molly make breakfast with a combination of reminiscence and amusement— Andromeda was equally hopeless when it came to not burning a meal. Remus had pronounced his intention to sleep until noon when he and Tonks had gone back to bed and seemed to be living up to the fact— not even shock could keep an exhausted Lupin awake, it seemed.

Molly, while thanking Tonks half-sarcastically for her eager desire to help, was nevertheless trying to impress upon the young woman that she needed none. "But I _never_ help you!" Tonks exclaimed. "I feel like I should be!"

"Tonks, dear, that's not for lack of effort," Molly assured her, starting to get irritated. "But I'm fine."

It was then that a redheaded freckled boy, a girl his age with bushy brown-hair, and another redheaded girl about a year younger wandered down. "Hi, Mum," the boy said. "G'mornin', Tonks." He glanced around the room for other people he recognized and did a double-take as his eyes passed over Regulus. "Who're you?"

"Is that any way to greet someone?" Molly asked him. "Regulus, this is my son, Ron, and my daughter, Ginny." She indicated the redheaded girl. "And this is Hermione Granger. Ron, to answer your question, he is Regulus Black. Do not offer to help— I've had more than enough offers already." Tonks went as red as the Weasleys' hair.

Ginny turned to Regulus. "So . . . would you mind my asking when you came here?" she asked.

Regulus shrugged. "Very late last night— I daresay I frightened Nymphadora—"

"—_Tonks_—" she protested.

"—Nymphaodra," Regulus repeated, "in my coming in. I hadn't intended to, of course, but that's the general reaction when someone enters a house by way of the attic."

"Why the attic?" Ron demanded.

Regulus smiled slightly, fingering the cup between his hands. "I haven't had a key to this house for almost sixteen years, and knowing Dad, he changed the locks."

"Your dad? But isn't this Sirius's. . . ." Ron trailed off. "But. . . ."

"He had a brother named Regulus on that tapestry," Hermione answered simply. "But it also said he died— sixteen years ago, in fact."

"Which is why I haven't had a house key," Regulus answered. "I faked my death. I've also been told to speak to Dumbledore, who's coming this afternoon. To _my parent's house_? Does anyone care to explain?"

"I don't think we can," Hermione answered.

"And she knows _everything_," Ron answered, and there was no real trace of sarcasm in his voice. "I dunno how she keeps it all in her head."

Ginny started laughing so hard she had to sit down beside Regulus. Both Ron and Hermione gave her a rather strange look. Hermione wandered over to talk to Tonks, and Ron just wandered off. Regulus continued to look calmly at Ginny until she regained her breath. "And may I ask what brought this on?"

"They've been doing that all summer," Ginny panted, a wide grin across her face. "It's so _obvious_ to everyone but them."

"What is?"

Ginny shook her head, eyes still laughing. "You'll figure it out eventually," she answered. "Mum, do you need any help?"

Molly sighed in defeat and asked her daughter to get the dishes out. As activity continued in the kitchen as usual, another man entered. He was covered in scars and walked with a _clonk_ing step because of a wooden leg. One eye was beady black, and the other a spinning, electric blue orb. Regulus sat up completely, eyes widening. "Alastor Moody?"

Moody turned his normal eye on the younger Black— for about a second, his blue eye stopped on Regulus as well. "Indeed," he growled, taking his wand out of his pocket. "Who're you?"

Regulus eyed the wand suspiciously. "Regulus Black. But—"

"Impossible!" Moody snapped. "Sirius's brother died! You'll have to think of better explanation than _that_ I'm afraid!"

"Peter Pettigrew faked his own death, too, and everybody really seems to be taking that in stride," Regulus commented. "I don't see why it's so different from me. You have Nott's word for it, and I don't see why that seems to be so great a source. I explained it to Nymphadora and Lupin— I don't want to explain it twice."

Moody lifted a grizzled brow. "Let's see, Black, then . . . how did you get into this house?"

"Um . . . the attic? It's the house I grew up in, Moody, I hope I know my way around by now," Regulus answered with a shrug.

"Ye-es,"Moody answered slowly. "But. . . ."

"But what?" Regulus asked, his own temper slowly coming out as he glowered at the retired Auror. "Moody, it's my house."

"Well . . . yes. You don't know anything about a Fidelius Charm, do you?"

"A _what_?" Regulus got to his feet, taking his hand out of his pocket without his wand and staring at the man he spoke to. "I don't understand." He blinked, and for a moment he again looked just like Sirius might have had he been there instead.

"Never mind, then," Moody answered. "I don't suppose you can be here and not you, anyway."

Regulus was still confused, but he slowly relaxed, letting it go. "I'll have to ask Dumbledore about that this afternoon," he decided aloud.

"Indeed you will," Moody answered.

Remus had wandered down as they spoke, breaking his vow of sleeping until noon but sleeping considerably longer than he ever had while he was at school. "I've got a feeling that this wasn't the most pleasant greeting," he commented mildly.

Both Moody and Regulus jumped. "What're you doing here so soon, Lupin?" Regulus asked. "I thought you were going to catch up on lost sleep."

"I thought you were a dream," Remus retorted. "Molly—"

"I do _not_ need any more help, Remus, thank you though," Molly told him. "We have an Order meeting tonight, though, I suppose, and then Harry's coming tomorrow?"

"Yes, I think so," Remus answered. "Mundungus isn't here," he added to no one in particular. "I've no idea where he is."

"Probably doing something illegal," Molly sniffed, putting biscuits on the table. "I really do wonder if he's going to be back in time for the meeting."

"I have confidence in him," Remus answered mildly.

Regulus heard their conversation with only half an ear. His mind was still rather focused on one of the first things Molly Weasley had said, and he kept turning it over in his mind until it suddenly clicked. "Order? You don't mean the Order of the Phoenix, do you?"

"Ye-es," Remus answered slowly.

"_In my parent's house_?" Regulus asked, well aware that this concept had already been beaten well into the ground from the previous night.

"It might be," Moody answered darkly. "You shall have to ask Dumbledore when he gets here. He may just be picking us up while we're stationed at Sirius's place."

"A Fidelius Charm and now the Order," Regulus repeated, lifting his brows. "Moody, I'm not stupid. I can put two and two together and come up with four alright by myself, thanks."

"Ask Dumbledore if you're right, then."

**

* * *

Author's Note: **Hm . . . this was a short chapter, and there's not a whole lot else I can say. We'll meet Dumbledore and Snape next chapter, which will be considerably longer. Harry soon after that. Then the real plot starts. Thanks to my reviewers! Cheers! — Loki 


	4. The Order of the Phoenix

Soon after breakfast, Regulus went to bed. No one argued— Remus couldn't help but wonder if the man had slept at all in the last couple of days. Otherwise, few people were familiar with the youngest Black, and no one really wanted to test him. Remus kept his mouth shut when Regulus miscounted doors on the upper floor and went into Sirius's bedroom instead of his own, not wanting to invite more pain for the younger man. The subject of the remaining Black was avoided with a purpose for the remainder of the day, though Hermione asked a few tentative questions that, for the most part, none of the adults there could or were comfortable asking.

Eventually, though, Remus commented that if Regulus was actually going to talk to Dumbledore, someone was going to have to wake him up. Moody and Molly, the only two in the room at the time, stared mildly back at him.

"Alright, I'll get him," Remus muttered. He hadn't wanted to— Regulus and Sirius did have some family resemblance, and Sirius was an absolute bear in the morning, though until late in his life he'd been alright once woken up. Remus wasn't entirely sure Regulus wouldn't still be a bear after he'd gotten up.

Regulus was still asleep. "Sorry, man," Remus muttered, turning the alarm on the clock until it went off. The werewolf winced under the noise, which was particularly hard on his sensitive ears, but it had no effect on Regulus. Remus sighed again—Sirius had been this hard to wake up, too. He wasn't, however, familiar enough with the younger brother to wake him up with a jet of water like he used to with Sirius; instead he reached out a hand to shake Regulus by the shoulder.

Just as soon as a grabbed it, however, Regulus stirred. He groaned and sat up. "What is it?" he muttered, looking hazily around. "Lupin?"

Remus shook his head. "I believe we established that idea last night."

"What time is it?" Regulus asked, combing his hair out of his face with his fingers.

"Sometime around five-thirty, I believe," Remus answered with a shrug. "We thought it best to let you sleep, after all. But if you want to talk to Dumbledore, you're going to have to get up."

Regulus nodded, and Remus left him to get up and get dressed. Regulus took his time about it, but still came downstairs only half awake. Molly Weasley was ushering Ginny, Ron, and Hermione up the stairs. "Remus was beginning to wonder if you decided against talking to Dumbledore and went back to sleep," she commented.

"No, I'll talk. I want to know what the hell is going on, after all," Regulus answered, yawning. "What this is doing in my parents' house, and all that."

Molly shook her head. "I suppose technically it's your house, now," she commented.

Regulus jumped at the idea, staring oddly at her. "Well . . . perhaps," he said slowly. Before he detained her in making sure the three teenagers were really holed up in Hermione and Ginny's bedroom, halfheartedly complaining about not knowing what was going on, Regulus continued downstairs.

Remus, who had been talking to a scruffy-looking younger man, looked up when he came in, but didn't say a word. Moody likewise ignored him. Regulus was not particularly bothered by it, and sat down, still rubbing his aching head. He'd have thought he'd drunk firewhiskey instead of coffee.

It wasn't long before the kitchen door opened and another person appeared. Regulus looked up, under the assumption that it would only be Molly, but it was in fact someone entirely different. Instead of a plump redheaded mother, he saw a man a few years older than he was with sallow skin and greasy black hair, a good deal taller than Regulus would have been standing. His eyes swept the room. "Hullo, Severus," Regulus said mildly.

Severus Snape's eyes landed on the other man, and they widened just slightly at the sight of him. "Regulus Black?" he asked softly.

"None other."

"Nott swore you were dead. . . ." Snape commented softly. "I'd thought I'd told you to run for it, but apparently you hadn't listened."

"Oh, I listened— but I altered things slightly. Besides, you're taking the word of an idiot— and a street full of people swore they saw Peter Pettigrew die, after all," Regulus answered coolly. "I guess I never got the chance to really thank you for the warning."

"Yes, you're welcome, but how in hell did you—"

"Survive? Ask Lupin. I explained it last night, and I really don't care to explain it again," Regulus answered, his voice still mild. He got along with Snape better than most people did, but neither had ever actually considered the other a friend.

Snape shook his head. "I'd rather die than ask Lupin for anything," he reminded Regulus dryly. "So I suppose I am left waiting for you to be in a more humoring mood."

Regulus shrugged, rubbing his temples. "If Molly Weasley actually gave me enough information to guess that this is the Order of the Phoenix, you're one of the last people I'd eve expect here," he couldn't help but comment.

"If you're right, someone else can try to explain my presence later," Snape retorted.

"Well, I can think of a few people I would be even more surprised to see— Malfoy for instance, or Bella. If Pettigrew were here I think I'd find his body with Lupin just over there," Regulus announced, yawning.

"We may have to agree to disagree on that," Snape commented. "Lupin's considerable bloodlust comes out only once a month, after all."

Regulus shrugged. "Well, he can't help it after he was bit, Severus, and he was bit before he came to Hogwarts. I can hardly see how to hold what a man is against him." He shrugged again. "Well, in agreeing to disagree I suppose you're probably right."

Snape cocked his head and muttered something about Slytherins, retreating to another corner of the room where he could join in the conversation of Moody and Tonks. Professor McGonagall showed up as Molly came back down, and after a little while the room was more or less full— it wasn't until then that Dumbledore appeared. The headmaster of Hogwarts glanced around the room, until his eyes locked on Regulus. "I see we have someone new in our midst— do you care to introduce yourself?"

"Regulus Black, sir."

Dumbledore blinked and adjusted his half-moon spectacles. "Well, Mr. Black, I'm glad to announce that I cannot be wholly taken aback, as I have met people who did not really die before, however I must express something of an interest in your presence."

Since Tonks and Remus already knew anyway, his answer wasn't quite so awkward. "I'm an unregistered animagus, and I spent the past sixteen years hiding out in France as a fox," he confessed. "When I finally decided I would come back home, I found this." Regulus gestured around him, at the meeting beginning around them. "Um . . . is it the Order of the Phoenix, by any chance? Molly Weasley said something along those lines. . . ."

Dumbledore shrugged as Snape and Moody had. "What would your reaction be if it were?"

"I'd ask you what the hell it was doing in my parents' house, to be honest with you, Professor," Regulus admitted. "Then I'd ask to join. I've had my taste of where Voldemort lies, and I've decided that things'd be a lot better if they continued without him."

"A wise choice to make," Dumbledore murmured. "To answer your question, Mr. Black, the Order of the Phoenix is housed in your parents' old home because Sirius offered the place to us as headquarters when it was first reformed. After his death, we questioned whether or not we should continue to hold it here, as who inherited it was something of a question, but with you here, I suppose you wouldn't mind if we continued to make use of it?"

"What?" Regulus had to pause before he answered, piecing the parts of Dumbledore's sentences together. "Oh, yes . . . I wouldn't suppose I'd have a problem," he answered. "And about joining?"

Dumbledore smile thinly. "Unlike I've been told Voldemort has, there is nothing elaborate about the way we accept members. You're an overage wizard and we need all the support we can get— besides, an animagus often complained of for being a good spy is beyond all doubt an asset, don't you think?" he answered mildly.

Regulus nodded, startled.

"I believe, Headmaster, though I suppose you may have forgotten, that some of that is _my_ job," Snape announced coldly.

"I am aware of that, Severus. However, I think that we could use anyone with the ability to keep track of Voldemort. Besides, some of the escaped Death Eaters, especially as we knew we couldn't keep them in Azkaban long, continue to be more or less unaccounted for. You might appreciate the lift in some of your workload."

"At least its by another Slytherin," Snape acknowledged grudgingly. In an undertone, he added, "Moody hardly trusts _me_, and I've shown him I can be trusted. Do you really think allowing another former Death Eater into our midst _wise_?"

"Fewer people know Regulus is a Death Eater than know you are one," Dumbledore reminded him. "I doubt very many will recognize the name."

Albeit grudgingly, Snape nodded. "I suppose," he murmured. Obviously, he didn't like having even a ghost of a hint that he couldn't do it himself. Regulus smiled humorlessly. Sixteen years and Severus Snape, at least, hadn't changed.

**

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Author's Note:** Another chapter, and hopefully a better chapter than my last one. Thanks to The parrot has ceased to be and horn-head for the reviews! Padfoot: Since I forgot to mention it last time, I'm glad you approve that Regulus is considerably more cautious than dear Sirius, as for the rest you'll have to see. As always, if you're reading, tell me what you think! Cheers! — Loki 


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